This story contains hard drug use, graphic sex scenes and explicit language. It's rated R for a reason. I will not compromise this story for anyone and those who are against anything mentioned above may not want to read this.

Thank you to:clear venom, Princesspepper, DemonRogue, and ura-hd, for your great reviews and comments! Thank you so, so much guys, I really appreciate them all! Now, on with the story!

The last chapter expanded over: June 30th and ended with Draco prostituting his body to Roger in order to feed his addiction to heroin.

This chapter expands over:

July 5th

There was a jangling of keys.

Harry quickly looked up at the front door and prayed that it was Draco. He'd been praying for the past five days and was literately worried sick. He had sat on the sofa for those five days solidly, only moving to get something to eat or to go to the toilet.

He hadn't called the police. No, there seemed to be no need. He knew Draco was alive from the obscure phone calls that he received from him at odd hours of the night. Slurred words and long pauses made Harry suspect that Draco was overdosing on a cocktail of drugs and there was nothing he could do about it. He unsuccessfully pleaded with Draco to let him know where he was so he could bring him back home, but seconds later the phone call was usually cut abruptly.

And so it was with the jangling of the keys that Harry looked up at the front door desperately. He chewed on his lip and continued to stare and just when he thought he could bear it no longer and was about to run to the door and open it for himself, it opened slowly.

"Draco!" Harry exclaimed, jumping off the sofa and running over to him. "Where the hell have you been?"

But Draco didn't listen. Harry wasn't even sure if he had heard him or not. He walked into the house slowly and lifelessly and stared around, swaying from one foot to the other.

"Draco?" Harry asked worriedly. "Are you alright?"

Draco turned to him slowly. His eyes were glassy, expressionless and bruised. Dark circles around his eyes were only accentuated more thanks to the sunken look he had in his face. He'd lost at least a stone and his tall frame emphasised the skeletal look even more.

"I'm fine," he said softly and turned to look out the window. "It's sunny."

"Draco, what have you taken?"

Silence. Swaying from foot to foot.

"Draco?"

He turned around again and gave him a small smile. "Hi Harry."

"Draco, what have you taken?"

He shook his head. "Not much." The smile faded from his face. "Not nearly enough, in fact. I can feel it…"

"Feel what?"

Silence.

"Draco, feel what?"

"The downfall."

"What? The downfall? Draco stop it you're starting to scare me, what downfall?"

Draco looked mildly aggravated. "The downfall. The come down. I need to be up. Up and up and up."

"You need to stop using drugs."

Draco delivered Harry a dirty look. "You're bringing me down faster, go away."

"Draco, I've been worried sick for the past five days, how can you just expect me to go away?" Harry cried.

Draco screwed up his face in anger and drifted towards the stairs to revive his euphoria with the help of a little needle. Harry was hot on his heels. "Fuck off," Draco roared, attempting to push Harry away. The heroin -

(It will fuck you up, It will feel no guilt)

had sucked all of his strength and energy away.

"Draco, you better fucking tell me what's been going on right now," Harry shouted impatiently. "No, stay here," he added, as Draco tried to wriggle free from Harry's grasp.

"Get off me," Draco cried, struggling against the firm hold Harry had on him. His strength was beginning to come back as his bad mood grew and his drug-fuelled high fell into decline.

"Draco, stop it," Harry yelled, his arms still wrapped around Draco's waist. Draco twisted out of Harry's grip, who managed to grab hold of his sleeve before he ran up the stairs. Draco turned around and lashed out at Harry, delivering a loud slap across his face. Harry let go instantly and stepped back, clutching his reddening cheek.

"Oh Harry, I'm sorry. Shit, fuck, I'm sorry." Draco walked over to him and felt his own cheeks redden with shame as Harry flinched. "Harry, I'm so fucking sorry, I didn't mean it, I'm so sorry, I'm really so fucking sorry." He took another step towards Harry and wrapped him up in a hug, tears leaking out of his eyes as he felt Harry's body shaking like a leaf.

Shit, everything was fucking shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. What was the point in living if everything was just going to be shit? Why come down when you can live up? Why stay sober when you can take drugs? Why was it that everything so fucking great was illegal? Why did he hit Harry? Why is he such a bad person? Why is everything in his life so fucking shit? He was nothing. He was worthless. He was shit and his life was shit and he deserved to die.

"Draco, you've got to stop this." Harry's voice sounded muffled against his chest and Draco had half forgotten that he was there. As he came back to reality, he realised that he was gripping onto Harry tightly, not wanting to let him go. His body was still shaking. The shaking made Draco's own body shake and as he trembled, the awfulness of the situation that had just took place flew into his mind and taunted him ruthlessly.

"Please Draco, before it's too late." His voice sounded so pleading. So bleating. So whiny, always so fucking whiny and wholesome and irritating. He'd gotten out of the mess. He thought he'd won by beating the lifestyle, but he'd won shit. He didn't know how good it felt to shoot up and shoot for the stars. He didn't know how high you could get, he didn't know anything. And as these thoughts consumed Draco's mind, the last dregs of the heroin decided to play a little game with him and twist his feelings around.

"Just get the fuck away from me," Draco roared, pushing Harry away. The fright in his eyes infuriated Draco even more and he grabbed the nearest thing he could find - a vase - and threw it against the wall in anger.

"STOP IT!" Harry yelled. "YOU NEED TO SNAP OUT OF IT!"

Draco stormed over to Harry who shrank back into a corner submissively. Draco produced a syringe and heroin sealed in an air-tight bag from his shirt pocket and held them close to Harry's face.

"This is what helps me snap out of it," Draco spat. "This is everything I fucking need and I don't need anything else. Not even you."

Harry collapsed into sobs. "Why the fuck are you doing this?"

"Stop fucking crying," Draco roared, pushing Harry hard in the chest, causing the back of his head to bang against the wall. "Always fucking crying, just shut the fuck up and get out of my face." Draco pushed past Harry and ran up the stairs.

"Fine, fucking kill yourself with that shit," Harry screamed after him tearfully.

Draco stopped in mid-step and turned around. "You'd be sorry if I did," he spat.

"You'd be sorry If I did," I said, suppressing a hiccup.

Harry sighed. "I'm not saying it to be mean Drake, but… well, I just think you need to cut back."

I took another swig from the bottle of wine I was clutching. "When did you become so sober and holier-than-thou?" I asked sarcastically.

Harry sighed again, impatiently this time. "I'm not trying to act superior or anything but it's for your own good. Seriously Draco, you need to cut back. Drinking this much isn't healthy."

"You've only stayed sober for a week," I retorted. "Give it a couple more days and you'll be lying on the floor with me, pissed out of your face and you'll enjoy it."

Harry shook his head. "No, I want to change my lifestyle around. And you should too. You're becoming too dependent on alcohol."

I tried my best to stop the room from swaying and narrowed my eyes at him. "Are you calling me an alcoholic?" I asked, deliberately slowly.

"Yes," Harry hit back straight away. "Yes, I am. Because I think you are. I've managed to get out of that lifestyle Drake and I think you should too."

"It's been a fucking week," I spat angrily, "and now you think you're better than me?"

"I'm not saying that," Harry roared back. "I'm just saying you need to be careful with the amount that you drink."

I took a defiant gulp and felt the liquid burn my throat. Harry shook his head in disgust.

"Don't fucking patronise me Harry," I growled menacingly.

"Carry on drinking that amount and you'll be dead in a matter of years," Harry replied. "If you haven't moved on to anything harder by then."

"What do you mean by that?" I snapped.

"Drugs."

"I don't do drugs."

"Yet."

"So you're saying that everyone who drinks has to turn into a drug addict?"

"No."

"So what are you trying to say then?"

"I - just - I'm -" Harry sighed sadly. "I'm just worried Drake."

I sighed too. "I know. But I'm honestly fine."

"Are you?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Yes," I replied reassuringly. "Oh, come here!" I added, seeing the worried look on his face. I pulled him into a hug and he nuzzled his head into my chest. "I love you for being so caring," I said, leaning forward and kissing his hair, "but I'm okay. Really."

"I just don't want to see you get hurt," Harry said softly.

I smiled. "I'm going to be okay."

There was a nice silence for a while before Harry broke it with an, "I love you."

That was even nicer. "Love you too," I replied.

"And you promise me you'll be fine?"

"Promise."

Empty promises and broken dreams. Harry relived them all in his mind as he ran up the stairs after Draco. He was not going to let him waste away like this, he had to save him. This wasn't a case of Gryffindor courage, this was a case of humanity. He had to save Draco before he went too far. He threw himself down the corridor and ran to the bedroom, kicking open the door. Draco was sitting on the bed, a rubber band wrapped tightly around his arm, running to his mouth where he gripped it tightly with his teeth.

"NO! Harry cried.

"No!"

Harry grinned. "Yep."

I crushed him with a bear hug. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks!"

I released him from my grip and looked into his eyes. "You didn't have to get a job though, you know that right? We have enough money to last us for a while."

Harry hesitated.

"What?"

He composed himself. "Nothing. But you know what I said, I have nothing to do around here now I'm not…" His voice trailed off.

"Drinking. You can say it."

He looked slightly embarrassed and he focused on the carpet.

"Well this calls for a celebration!" I exclaimed, "Lets go out and party!"

"I was thinking more of dinner?" Harry suggested.

I tried not to let my face fall. "Yeah sure! Okay, that's great!"

"This is a nice place," I commented, looking around the restaurant. My fingers drummed on the table impatiently and I stole another look at Harry's glass. He'd only taken a sip of wine and we'd been here for ten minutes already. I, on the other hand, had reached the bottom of my glass and I was dying to pour myself another one. But every time I plucked up the courage to move my hand towards the bottle, Harry seemed to look up and start a conversation with me. It was getting on my nerves, I needed a fucking drink. I felt stupid having another glass though, not without Harry. After all, he was the reason we were celebrating.

"Not thirsty?" I asked.

He looked up from reading the menu. "What?"

I gestured towards his glass. "You haven't touched your drink hardly."

He looked at the glass and then back at me. "I… didn't notice," he said nonchalantly. Hs eyes wandered to my empty glass. "You can have some more if you want."

"No, no, I'll wait," I replied quickly. He gave me a smile and started to read the menu again. I looked down at my own. I didn't know what I wanted. Everything just looked boring and I found my eyes drifting over the drinks part of the menu. I forced them back over to the starter choice. Soup of the day… Breaded mushrooms… Tribagino Lurgini white wine…

Fuck. I brought the menu closer to my face so my eyes could only concentrate on the starter section. The words seemed to mesh together and I couldn't read any of them any more. I needed a drink before my mind was going to explode.

"Draco?"

I lowered my menu.

"Do you know what you want for your starter?" Harry had seemingly already ordered and now the waiter was looking at me.

"Soup of the day," I said quickly. I thrust my menu at the waiter and reached for the bottle of wine and started to pour myself a drink. Harry raised a questionable eyebrow.

"What?" I asked defensively as the waiter went away.

"You didn't even ask what the soup of the day is," Harry replied with a slightly amused smile on his face.

I brought the glass to my lips. As the liquid went down my throat, everything was okay again. "I don't care because I'm so hungry," I replied, hoping that it was something normal.

I stared at Harry's glass disbelievingly. We were on our main course and he still had a couple of sips of wine left before he would have to move onto his second glass. How could he stand it? I reached for the bottle to pour myself another glass and found it was empty.

"Should we order again?"

Harry looked up from his food. "What?"

"Should we order another bottle? This one's empty."

"I'm okay," Harry replied.

I let out a sigh. It was only me that could hear the taint of jealousy within it. "It's been a month now."

"A month since what?"

"That you haven't been drinking."

"I have been drinking. I am drinking."

"Properly."

"You mean solidly?"

"Okay, solidly. It's been a month since you've stopped drinking solidly and abandoned me and your out of control lifestyle."

Harry sighed. "Draco…"

"What?" I snapped.

Harry opened his mouth and shut it again.

"What?" I demanded. "What? What views have you got about me, huh? Your alcoholic boyfriend?"

"Can we speak about this another time?" Harry hissed.

"No, I want to talk about it now."

"Well I don't."

I folded my arms and sulked.

Harry ran over to Draco and wrenched the heroin-filled syringe from his grip only a split second before Draco was going to inject it into himself. He ran downstairs and into the kitchen, ignoring the anguished shrieks from Draco. Hearing footsteps bounding down the stairs after him, he looked around desperately and quickly threw the syringe in the bin. It wasn't the best hiding place but it would have to do for now. As Draco made his way into the kitchen, Harry turned around quickly. Draco's facial expression chilled his heart to the bone.

"Why are we arguing so much lately?"

I kept my attention on the television set, not wanting to answer Harry's question. Because I knew what the reason was. My jealousy. I was jealous of Harry. He'd managed to break away from the downward spiral I could feel myself slipping into. I was becoming dependent on alcohol.

But at the same time, I didn't want to quit. I kept telling myself I'd do it when I was ready, that I was young and that I could only drink this heavily at the age I was now. I convinced myself that in a couple of years time, I'd settle down and back away from what I'd become. And I believed I could do it. I liked drinking. It felt good. It made me feel confident and it made me feel powerful. I could take on the world with it. Without it, I was nothing.

And now Harry had broken free from the destruction and I was consumed with resentment. I didn't want to carry on like this on my own, I wanted someone to feel as secure as I did. He wasn't as much fun now he didn't drink and I felt lonely. This new night job of his meant that he didn't even go out much anymore, so I was forced to brave the club scene alone. So many nights I tried to stay at home and relax, but I just couldn't. Not now I was used to it.

Harry leaned over and grabbed the remote control.

"Hey!" I protested, as he turned the television off. He sighed and turned to me.

"Why Draco?"

I shrugged. "I hadn't really noticed."

"You haven't noticed that we've been arguing a lot more lately?"

"Nope," I lied.

He looked at me for a while, trying to work out if I was lying or not. "You seriously haven't noticed?" he asked doubtfully.

"I seriously haven't noticed," I replied.

He chucked the remote control into my lap and got up from the sofa.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Work," came the short reply.

"Oh right. I forgot," I said bitchily. A little too bitchily.

Harry stopped in his tracks. "Is that what this is all about?" he asked. I didn't answer. "Yeah, it all makes sense now," he said. "You're jealous."

"Jealous?" I scoffed. "No way."

"Yeah, you're jealous!"

"Jealous of what exactly?"

"Me working."

I sneered. "Yes, because I am dying to get a job, Harry."

He didn't buy the sneer. "Why are you jealous?"

"I'm not," I insisted shrilly.

"Your tone of voice says different," Harry replied calmly.

I got up from the sofa and walked around to face him. "Why do you think you're so much better than me now?"

"I don't."

"You think you're so much fucking better than me now you have a job. Well let me tell you something Harry; You're not."

"I didn't say I was!"

"But you believe it."

Harry opened his mouth to reply and then shut it again to ponder. "You're right," he said finally. "I do."

My mouth dropped open.

"I do think I'm better than you," he continued. "And do you know why? Because you're too blind to see the trap you're falling into, the vicious cycle that is spiralling wildly out of control. You're an alcoholic Draco and you need to stop drinking. You've become a pathetic excuse for a man and it's only now that I've gotten myself out of it that I see that."

I raised my fist angrily and Harry backed off, afraid. My face burnt up with shame and I looked at my arm in horror. I dropped it like a ten ton weight and stepped towards Harry. He took a step backwards.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, consumed with guilt. I took another step towards him and he didn't back off this time. I chanced another step and outstretched my arms into a hug. It killed my heart that he flinched when my arms came towards him.

"Sorry," I repeated. I choked on a sob. "Harry, I really am sorry." He let himself be pulled into a hug and my heart flooded with relief as I felt him returning it.

"It's okay," he said shakily.

"You know I didn't mean to do that Harry."

"I know."

"I'd never hurt you Harry. You mean too much to me. You know I'd never, ever hurt you."

Draco stormed over to Harry. "Where is it?" he snarled. When Harry didn't answer, he grabbed a fistful of his hair. "WHERE IS IT?" he barked. Harry struggled to get out of his grip, but it just made the pain worse. Draco let out a roar of fury and flung him to the ground. Harry tried to crawl away quickly but Draco drew back a fist and punched him squarely in his lower back, flattening him to the ground.

"WHERE IS IT?" he demanded again, and didn't wait for an answer before he stomped on Harry's back hard. "Tell me you fucking bastard, where is it?"

Draco flipped him onto his back and straddled him, before grabbing his head and banging it on the floor. Harry screamed in pain as his surroundings went dizzy. His head hurt so much he thought he was going to vomit. He saw the blurred form of an unknown figure above him. It wasn't Draco. It was a psychopath. A drug-addicted psychopath that had taken over the body of his boyfriend.

"Stop it," he whispered weakly.

Draco banged his head again, before wrapping his fingers tightly around his throat. "Where is it?" he spat. "Tell me where it fucking is."

Harry choked and spluttered.

"I won't fucking let go," Draco shouted. "TELL ME!"

Harry's hand scrabbled around desperately but they couldn't reach anything. He tried to move his chest to shift Draco's weight off of him but to no avail. He looked up again at the figure above him. The hollowed, darkened eyes. The sunken cheeks. The pale skin that hung from his skeletal frame. Harry looked deeper still and saw the evilness that lurked in his body. The toxic waste where his mind once was but no longer lay thanks to all the drugs that he had consumed so quickly and heavily. He saw it all and more as everything went bright and the throbbing pain became duller and duller, imprinting itself in his skull.

Draco wasn't sure how long ago Harry had passed away, but he still choked him. He still wrapped his fingers tightly around his throat, demanding to know where his heroin was. "TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK IT IS," he roared in Harry's face, but his glassy-eyed expression remained deadened and his mouth stayed firmly shut.

Draco finally got up and breathed heavily. He looked around at his surroundings, he wanted something, anything, to stare at other than what lay on the floor below him, but his eyes refused to obey his brain and he turned to see the damage he'd caused. The purplish bruised marks around his throat. The chest that was no longer rising up and down with every breath he took. Because there were no more breaths. There were no more breaths, there was no more life and there was no more Harry. Staring at the figure of his boyfriend, he realised what he'd done and started to cry bitterly.

"All my fault," he whispered between tears, before breaking into heart-wrenching howls. He felt disgusted. He felt dirty. He felt deadened. He was worthless. He was absolutely nothing and he was just going down, down, down, down, down, freefalling down, down, down without a parachute and there was nothing or nobody to stop him from falling down, down, down and out.

A dull vibrating in his pocket brought him back to reality. He took it out with a shaking hand and saw that Roger was calling him. Swallowing, he wiped away his tears and answered the call.

There was something that could stop him from falling into nothingness after all.

Next sub-chapter already up...